Life among the Dead
by alan.haymore
Summary: This is my Original Character for The Walking Dead series. It starts a few weeks after Rick first finds the group camped outside Atlanta. They haven't suffered the Roamers ambush yet, and Rick is still not yet aware of how far over the edge Shane has fallen. My story is going off the comics, and my OC is mainly a side character.
1. Chapter 1

Marcus sprinted up the rocky slope of the quarry. He clutched his side, feeling the blood trickling through his fingers, already soaking his shirt and part of his pants leg. Behind him, he could hear the rasping breathing of the walkers, about eight of them. He'd managed to lose the others in his mad dash through the woods outside that hellhole called Atlanta, but these few where persistent, and had stuck to his trail like a pack of bloodhounds. He laughed a little through the panting, his lungs burning. That wasn't even remotely funny, he thought, barreling his way through a patch of brush. He tripped, falling into the dirt. He yelped as a sharp rock bit into his knee, stabbing into the soft flesh beneath the kneecap. Behind him, he heard the walkers closing in, their horrid breathing, making sounds like they were drinking in the air, and their smell, where all so close that Marcus gagged, chocking on the bile that rose into his throat. This can't be, he thought. I've managed to survive almost two months in this hell, I can't die, not now. He rose to his feet, pulling the short blade from it's sheath on the back of his hip, while grabbing three of the throwing knifes he'd managed to salvage back in Rutledge county. The throwing knifes were thin and he was able to hold three at a time between his fingers.

He spread his legs, knees slightly bent, blade held at an angle in front of him. He wasn't about to go down without a fight.

Rick Grimes stretched his back, letting out a massive yawn and scratching his head. He glanced up at Dale, the old man reclining in a lawn chair on top of the RV. "How's it looking this morning Dale? See anything out there?" Dale brought the rifle to his shoulder, scanning the area around the camp slowly. "Seems quite enough. Glen went into the city to scavenger a little earlier. Shane seems edgy to get out hunting. Not sure what's gotten in to that boy...what the hell!?" Dale bolted up, shouting an alarm they all dreaded the thought of. "Walkers!" Rick pulled his pistol from it's holster. Shane ran to his side, shotgun in hand. "What's going on? Walkers?" Rick gave him a sidelong glance, nodding. "Yep. How far from camp Dale?" Dale shook his head murmuring under his breath. "It looks like they're chasing someone, but I can't be certain, Rick, Shane. You boy's need to get down there. If it's a survivor, they're in need of a serious rescue." Rick nodded and set off at a dead sprint. The flat ground ahead gave him a good view of the person. He watched as the boy tripped, falling flat. Rick speed up, running as fast as he could. It looked as if the walkers would be right on top off the boy, when he sprung to his feet, a sword in hand. Rick saw him throw something, and three of the walkers went down, knives in their foreheads. The boy leapt forward, cutting down two others, when a walker caught him from behind, knocking him down. The two walkers that were left standing moved in, reaching for the boy. Rick and Shane both fired in unison, taking them down before they could get the boy. Rick was worried they would be too late, but as they slowed to a trot by the spot where he lay, they saw that the walker that had tackled him was missing part of its head, from the jaw up. The boy sat kneeling on the ground, his sword held limply at his side. As Rick and Shane closed in, he could see the boy was bleeding badly from a wound in his side. "That a bite kid?" The boy looked up at him, eyes glazed. "If it is, then you better put that bullet in my head now." The boy lifted up his shirt, showing a long gash across his left rib cage. "But I don't think walkers can do this." The boy tried to stand, but instead fell forward. Rick caught the boys shoulders, holding him, and laying him down gently. Lori, Jim and Allen had just arrived when the kid passed out. Lori put a hand on Ricks shoulder, staring at him. "Let's get him in the RV, and see about patching him up." Lori nodded, as Rick picked the boy up in his arms. He was light, lighter then any boy should be, and his hair was ragged and long, unkept in all the chaos. "And let's see just what this poor kids been through."

Marcus felt weightless, and couldn't help thinking he was dead. He could feel the throbbing in his ribs from the cut in his side, and he was aware of sheets laying on his bare chest. Someone, maybe those guys who'd helped him, had brought him somewhere and patched him up. He did his best to remain still, relishing the softness of the bed, the warm sheets. It felt like a century since he'd last slept in a bed, much less anywhere remotely comfortable. He could feel a presence in the room as well, could hear two people whispering a few inches from the edge of the bed. "Is he alive?" It sounded like a little girl, a slight whimper in her voice as if she was scared. He was aware of a small hand poking his cheek. "Na, he ain't dead. My daddy said they saved him from a few walkers, and he was hurt bad." He suppressed a smile, he hadn't needed any saving, but he was still grateful. "Is he gonna be in a comba?" The girl sounded closer. "It's a coma, and dad said he wouldn't be." Marcus felt the bed rock, and heard someone walking into the room. "Carl, Sophia, what're you two doing in here? The poor boy's resting." Marcus felt his temper flare. Who were they to call him a boy? They didn't know anything about what he'd been through. He must've made some unconscious facial cue, because the woman who'd scolded the little boy and girl was at his side, sitting on the edge of the bed, the back of her hand was pressed against his forehead. "You awake finally?" Marcus opened his eyes, squinting in the light of the sun flowing through the window beside the bed. He was in what looked like the back of an RV, sleeping bags were on the floor, along with clothes and other stuff. The boy, Carl the woman had called him, stood at the doorway, blocking the path. The girl, Sophia, was peeking over his shoulder at him, part curious and part afraid. The woman on the edge of the bed was an attractive young woman, hair tied back and a kind face. He tried to sit up slowly, hand pressed into his side. It hurt like a bitch, but he managed to prop himself up against the wall of the RV. The woman smiled, offering him a can of what appeared to be beans. "Carl, go get Rick and the others, tell them the kids up. Sorry about those two." Carl dashed to the door of the R.V., grabbing Sophia's hand on the way out. Marcus took the offered beans, his stomach rumbling like a tank engine. Damn, he was hungry.

It was a few minutes before Rick and the others of his group had arrived, all gathered in the R.V., all staring at him intently. Rick had made some introductions, first his wife and son, Lori and Carl. Then a stern faced man named Shane, an older man named Dale, who owned the R.V. Next was a normal enough fellow named Jim, a pair of sisters, both in their mid twenties named Amy and Andrea. There was an Asian guy named Glenn, and a few others he hadn't got the names of. It turned out Amy was the younger woman who'd first woken him up. She sat at the edge of the bed again, smiling encouragingly at him. Marcus stared at them all, wondering how to begin. "I guess I should start with introducing myself. My names Marcus Finn, from New Hampshire. I'd been in Georgia for a kendo tournament with my high school team when all this went down." He stopped, looking around him for his sword. Where was it? Rick must've caught this, because he stood, holding Marcus's sword. "I'm sorry to be keeping this from you, but it's purely a safety precaution on our part." Marcus nodded in understanding, holding his hand out for it. "That belonged to my kendo master. We'd made it out of the tournament stadium when it began, but he'd been bitten. He gave it to me, ordering me to protect the others" he took a deep breath. "We'd just arrived in Atlanta yesterday from Rutledge county. Made it a few blocks in when we'd been ambushed, but not by those things." He saw every ones face turn to suspicion and disbelief. "A group of men popped out of a building to our right, firing guns into our group. Only myself and two others had escaped, but they followed us, shooting the whole way. When we finally ran into walkers, Greg went down, mobbed by a horde of the things. Myself and Shannon had tried to save him, but those trigger happy bastards flew around the corner. Still shooting. Monsters went after them, allowing me and Shannon to escape. We'd ducked down an alley, made it to some construction pit on the outskirts. One of the bastards followed, knife in hand. Snuck up on us and slit Shannon's throat, and lunged for me. Gotta good swipe in before I severed his head from his shoulders." Rick had handed him the sword back, and it trembled in his hands, his body shivering in rage. "Bastard handed them to us. I thought I could save Shannon, but by the time I'd managed to staunch the bleeding, they were on us. Tore her from my arms, and I ran, as fast as I could. They followed me, and that's when I ran into you guys." He looked up, not surprised at their expressions, and confident they'd all been through similar moments. Rick stood up, staring at him. "So your alone now." It wasn't a question. And Marcus grabbed at the opportunity. Survival was better succeeded in a group, as his master had always said. "I'd prefer not to be a burden, but if you let me join you, I can carry my own weight. I can hunt, fight, and cook." He stared at Rick, jaw set. Maybe now was a second chance at survival, and helping these people. He'd failed Shannon and his master, but he bet if he could be of help to these people, he wouldn't pass up the opportunity. "Welcome to this rag tag family, Marcus Finn. We'd be glad to get all the help we can, as well as all the fighters possible." Rick held out his hand to Marcus. They shook hands. Maybe, just maybe, he'd found a second chance. It was starting to look a little promising in this fucked up world.


	2. Chapter 2

Marcus stepped lightly through the woods, feet gliding across the ground, barely stirring up the foliage under his feet. He could hear Rick and Shane a few feet behind him, trying to follow the path he took. It was chilly, and his windbreaker did little to keep the cool nip of the Georgia morning air away. The early morning sun was just rising, and the forest ahead was barely more than a shadow. Rick and Shane were both panting heavily behind him. The fools were going to scare away any prey they managed to find, if they hadn't already done so. He knelt down, holding his hand up in a clenched fist. The two men both halted beside him, kneeling to the earth. He tested the wind, sniffing for the scent of any animals, or walkers. His month in the wild had taught him much about hunting, trying to feed not only himself, but the eight other survivors of his kendo team. "Marcus, what are you doing?" Shane failed at understanding the importance of silence. Marcus held a solitary finger to his lips, hushing him. Leaning towards the man, he whispered as softly as he could. "You and Rick head back. I won't be able to find anything with you to sounding like stampede behind me." Shane glared at him, and opened his mouth to retort, when Rick put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Marcus spotted the opportunity, and motioned to the bow he held in his hands. "Besides, your guns will make to much noise, and limit the number of game we can find." This time Shane nodded grudgingly, muttering under his breath. "Didn't get the memo that when the fucking world ended, we'd all become cave men again." Rick rolled his eyes as they both made their way back down the path they'd followed. Shane must've been holding a serious grudge, because it sounded as if on his way back, he made every possible effort to step on every leaf, twig, and pine cone they'd avoided on the way there. "Jackass." Marcus stood back up to half height, taking long, slow strides across the ground. He slid his feet as he stepped down, moving leaves and twigs as to keep from making noise. He was constantly sniffing and tasting the air. It was a few minutes before he caught the sent he'd been hoping for. Deer! And it was fresh. He picked up his pace cautiously, hoping they didn't cover much ground before he caught up.

God must've been feeling kind that day. Marcus was nestled in the crook between the brach and trunk of a young spruce tree, an arrow knocked and two more in hand, ready to be loaded and fired in a matter of seconds between shots. In the small clearing below, several beautifully sized Dow and a buck rested in the grass. All looked pleasantly plump, and all looked and, from what he could tell, smelled in perfect health. It was almost too good to be true. He waited motionless, planning his attack. As he drew the string of the bow back, lining up his first shoot, a rustling below startled him. He managed to keep from prematurely firing, as a walker stumbled into the clearing. The Dow and buck were up in a matter of seconds. Marcus cussed under his breath, but opportunity was truly with him. As the Dow rose, the one he'd been eyeing as his prime target moved, giving him a perfect line up between it, and the other Dow he'd planned on hitting. He fired, striking the Dow behind the shoulder, a perfect heart shot, and as it dropped, he fired and hit the other two, in perfect line. The walker stumbled to the fallen Dow,and Marcus was on it in a second. He jumped from his perch, landing on it's shoulders. He felt it's back and shoulder bones give beneath him, a stomach churning cinch of snapping vertebrae, and crunching bone. The walker growled and wrenched beneath him, and he slipped an arrow beneath the back of its head, stabbing upward into the brain. It didn't even twitch as it died, it's corpse dropping limp. He stood, holding the arrow and examining it. "Damn monsters should stay dead when they die the first time." He through the arrow to the ground, disgusted. "Not even worth trying to clean. Fucking god only knows what diseases you fuckers carry in your rotting sacks of flesh." He moved to the dear, knife in hand. It was a few minutes before he finished gutting them, letting the blood drain and lightening his load. Three Dow, and he hadn't the faintest idea how he'd carry them back. He spotted several fallen trees near by. "God, I'm sorry about cussin you out earlier." He hadn't smiled like he was since he'd first arrived for the tournament in Monticello, as he grabbed four small sized logs, sized just wright to fashion a small sled out of. "I did promise Rick I'd carry my own weight, but this is easily twice mine. Even before shit hit the fan." He hauled the last deer onto the sled, and grabbed the rope he'd brought with him, lashing the deer onto the sled, and tying of one end into a knot. He hefted the end of the rope over one shoulder, dug in his heels, and pulled. The sled slid easily on the damp grass, the morning dew still fresh. God truly was smiling upon him today.

It was an hour before Marcus reached the edge of the woods, and despite the stitch in his side, the sweat pouring down his face, and the panting, he was grinning from ear too ear. He stopped for a second, and gathering his breath, bellowed at the top of his lungs! "Rick! Rick!" He needn't have shouted more then once, as the entire group surrounded him in an instant. They all stars in awe and shock at his haul, none daring to believe there eyes. That is, except for Shane, who looked pissed at Marcus success. Rick stood at his side, jaw open, as he gazed at the three Dow on the makeshift sled. "I said I'd pull my weight, now didn't eye." Rick grabbed Marcus and pulled him into a hug, giving him a kiss on the top of his head. "Son, you are a God send." He turned too the rest of the group, positively beaming! "Folks, tonight, we feast better then we ever have before!" He put a hand on Marcus shoulder. Lori grabbed Marcus in a hug too, planting a kiss on his sweaty brow. He was the only one too notice as Shane turned on his heel, storming off to the R.V. and nearly bowling over a bemused Glen. Marcus would have to keep a close eye on that guy.


	3. Chapter 3

It was high noon when Marcus emerged from the R.V., stretching his arms high and yawning. His long hair hung down in wet clumps, the cool water dripping down his back felt good. All around the camp was celebrating. Rick and Shane already had a big fire pit dug out, and with Jim's help, they where loading the dear on sticks to hang across. Amy jogged to his side, grinning at him. "You are amazing Marcus! Not even Rick and Shane together could've caught those three dear together." Marcus blushed at the praise, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's nothing, really. I just got good at hunting, trying to get food for the rest of my group. And fortune was with me, it was pure luck that I caught the trail, and that they lined up just right when I got to them." He attempted to brush his hair back to his face, but his bangs flopped back forward. Amy laughed a little, and setting down a laundry basket in her hands, she pulled a hair tie from her wrist. "You really should ask for some of these, that or have Lori cut your hair for you. She cuts everyone else's for them." She pulled his hair back from his face, tying it in a pony-tail that fell down his back to the middle of his shoulder blades. Marcus felt her hands touch his shoulders, her fingers tracing the lines of hardened muscle. "How old are you Marcus?" She stepped in front of him, her eye's were a nice blue color, and he smiled. She was shorter than him, the top of her head just below his chin level. He reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. "And what makes you ask me that?" He smirked knowingly, and her face turned a slight red as she smacked his hand away, a thin smile on her face. "Pervert." She bent down to retrieve the laundry basket she'd set down, and he saw Lori and another woman waving at her, both holding baskets as well. Marcus grabbed his sword from beside the r.v. door, falling into step beside Amy. She looked at him for a second, and shoved the basket into his chest, grinning. "If your growing to tag along, then make yourself useful." She jogged forward, and he smiled, shouting after her. "Fine, then lets see if I let you have any deer next time I get one." She stuck her tongue out at him, and laughed. Marcus smiled, realizing he was really liking it here, more then he'd thought he'd ever feel again. Looking at the sky for a split second, he felt a strange feeling well up in him, hope. Looking at Amy as she waved for him to hurry up, he also felt his heart skip a few beats, smiling as she smiled at him. Maybe things were getting better, a lot better.


	4. Chapter 4

Marcus saw Lori staring at him through his peripheral vision. She'd been staring at him for the last twelve minutes, actually, she'd been staring at him ever since he tagged along with Amy to the creek. They sat there on the edge of the creek now, him and Amy laughing and talking, while Lori and Donna just gaped. He had to admit, he wasn't very fond of the attention. Amy must've seen him glance over her shoulder, and she looked towards the others. Lori and Donna were whispering together, but stopped and looked down embarrassed. "What are they gossiping about?" Amy looked at him for a second, then grinned broadly. "Probably trying to say we're getting together or something. Donna tried telling everyone that Dale was having a relationship with me and Andrea." She giggled, a embarrassed blush creeping into her cheeks. Marcus chuckled at the notion. "No offense, but I don't think Dales plumbing is up to the task of two beautiful young women." He laughed a little harder, and nearly dropped the shirt he'd been washing. He lunged to grab it, and fell into the creek. Amy stared at him for a second, sitting in the creek with a soaked shirt on his head, and burst out laughing. She fell backwards in her laughing fit, Lori and Donna walking by to see what the commotion was about. The two started laughing as well, Lori pulling a towel out of the basket she held. "You might want to put this on and give us those wet clothes." Her and Donna turned away, Lori grabbing Amy by the shoulder and turning her around. Marcus stripped as quickly as he could, rapping the towel around his waist as quickly as he could. "You girls can turn around now." Lori grabbed his clothes out of his hands, smiling at him. "Let's get back up to the camp before you catch a cold." She grinned a little, taking in the sight. Both her and Amy marveled at the young mans appearance. Solid build, with six pack abs and solid pecks and broad shoulders. His arms were muscular and strong, and scarred! Lori and Amy gasped, and Donna just stared. His chest and arms were covered in scars. There was even one that stared at the middle of his chest and slashed up his neck, ending in a thin cut at his bottom lip.

Rick and Shane stared in silence at Marcus as he got dressed. They'd managed to give him a pair of Shane's cargo pants and a belt, but a shirt was more difficult. If his body was more filled out he could wear one of Ricks shirts without it causing him problems when he tried to move. And personally, Rick didn't want the poor boy going around and everyone in camp asking what had happened for him to have all those scars. He leaned against the counter in the RV, Dale and Shane taking a seat at the table. "Marcus. I hope you don't mind me asking, but what happened to you out there for you to end up with...all those." He pointed at Marcus chest, the most heavily scared area. Marcus halted as he grabbed for the shirt they'd brought him. "Rick, I've heard you've been arguing with Shane about moving camp. And before you do, there's something you need to know." Shane glared at him fuming, and Rick exchanged glances with Dale. "Marcus, what's out there that we need to worry about besides Walkers?" Marcus sighed and sat on the edge of the counter. "Who's out there, you already know that. Survivors, and they're more dangerous than walking corpses."


	5. Chapter 5

The fire cracked louder as a drop of grease fell from the cooking meat. Dale, Andrea, Amy, and Marcus laughed together, and the everyone else joined in. Sophia and Carl sat together next to Carol, smiling at each other. The deer was nearly gone, and the other two were close to finished cooking. Glen had found a good deal of salt on his last run into the city, and they were going to preserve the extra meat as long as they possibly could. Marcus sighed as they laughter died out. They'd been telling each other how they ended up there, apparently Rick still didn't know a lot about them, and Marcus wanted to mention to them something they needed to know.

Marcus stood, looking at everyone in turn. "Sophia, Carl, can you go see if there's anymore cups in the RV?" They both nodded and ran off together giggling. Rick and Shane both glared at each other and the tension in the air was suffocating. "I know you all are wondering why I just sent those two off. It's because you need too know something, and I don't want them to be worrying about this." Everyone was silent, and he felt Amy's hand grab his, squeezing gently in reassurance. "You guys have a great set up here, and it's a good idea. But rescue isn't coming. I saw what had happened to the rest of the state on my way here, and I can bet that the rest of the world has suffered the same fate. To wait for rescue and hold out for the government to clean this up is suicide." Everyone took in a collective breath, and Shane leapt to his feet. "You don't know that, how could you? They will come, and they will rescue us. We can't leave, and be trapped out in the wild for God knows how long." Marcus turned to face Shane, his gaze like ice in the firelight. " I know because I met others who felt the same way, and they all were slaughtered." Shane clenched his jaw. "I don't believe you." He spat the words between his teeth. Marcus just stared at him.

Rick stood, grabbing Shane's shoulder. "Shane, it's not wether we believe him or not. It's if we're willing to take the risk." Shane slapped Ricks hand away, taking a breath to shout at him. He stopped as Marcus leveled his blade, the tip poking right between his shoulder blades. "You got lucky with me, as did I. If it'd been one of those crazy fuckers from the city, or those roaming cannibals I ran into outside of Monticello, you'd all be dead. And it's only a matter of time till the Walkers decide to start spreading out from the city to find food." Shane shoulder's drooped, and Rick put a hand on his shoulder. "Shane, you know he's right. We can't risk staying here." Amy stood up, her face pale and nervous.

"I'm going to go check in on Sophia and Carl." Marcus nodded to her, his blade twirling in a graceful arc as he slid it back into the sheath on his hip. Shane shook of Rick's hand and turned to Lori. "Lori, tell Rick, tell him I'm right. You know I'm right." His face was pleading, and Marcus sensed it wasn't just about them moving camp. There was something deep down, a desperate pleading. Marcus turned away, and for a second, he thought he saw something in his peripheral vision. Amy stepped out of the RV, her head turned to the side to yell something back into the vehicle. Marcus started to walk too her when it happened.

From behind the RV, a walker lunged, it's gaping mouth snapping shut on the exposed flesh of Amy's neck. Marcus couldn't hear the screams of the others, and he felt numb as Andrea shoved him to the side, clawing at the air as Dale and Jim grabbed her around the waist holding her back. He only felt the boiling rage in the pit of his stomach, the burning in his eyes as tears started to roll down. He gave in, the primal rage that he'd come to trust unleashed. A howl burst from his lungs, and he leapt forward, his blade lashing out in that viscous arc that had already downed more Walkers then he felt the need to count, and these beasts would be no different.


	6. Chapter 6

Ricks P.O.V

Rick leveled his pistol, the iron sights lined on the walkers head. He pulled the trigger as fast as he could, swinging the gun in a circle as he shot at the onslaught of walkers, Shane and Dale beside him, Shane's shotgun throwing the walkers to the ground as he fired. Rick shouted orders as fast as he could, ordering the group to converge on him, shouting for them to stay calm and push the walkers back.

Rock was scared, and Marcus's roar shattered the night. He hadn't been expecting it, but the echoing cry turned his blood cold, the primal rage and animalistic blood lust scared him more then the walking corpses did. He turned, watching as Marcus ran flat, almost parallel with the ground, his blade glinting in the firelight as he swung it, three walkers heads flying in the air as they were severed from their bodies. The walkers that had started for Amy turned as they heard the cry. The three closest to her dropped, knives imbedded in their foreheads. Two more collapsed flat on the earth, their head scut in half at the jaw line. Rick was to stunned to move. It was a massacre, Marcus cutting the walkers down one after another. It hadn't even been ten seconds until everyone was standing still, panting. Marcus was panting heavily, a circle of bodies at his feet. He was covered in blood and gore, his blade held limply in his hand. Rick heard Andreas sobs as she clutched at her sisters body, clinging to her.

Marcus POV

Marcus stood panting heavily, staring at the ground before him. At least 20 maybe 25 walkers lay dead before him. He felt warmth on his shirt and jeans, and looked down at himself. He was covered in blood and core, bits of rotten flesh clinging to the fabric. His blade was covered I it too, the gleaming silver covered in the blood. He turned, tears still streaming down his face as he knelt down by Andrea. He stared at Amy, the left side of her face drenched in blood, her blond hair soaked in it, and her eyes were blank, her beautiful blue eyes clouded and blank. Her reached forward, sliding his hand down her forehead, closing her eyes. Andrea turned to him for a second, and reached down. Marcus saw her pull her gun, sliding the barrel under Amy's chin. He placed his hand on hers, shaking and struggling to hold the gun. He steadied her grip, sliding his finger to the trigger guard. He heard her take a shaky breath as she pulled the trigger. Marcus looked away, and didn't look back as he stood, Andrea collapsing into Dales arms. He saw the rest of the group gathered around in a circle. He walked over, and saw Jim looking at them all, clutching at his forearm. He'd been bitten.


	7. Chapter 7

The entire camp was crammed into the R.V. Everyone stared at Jim, laying in the bed, his arm bandaged and vomiting into a bucket. Bullets of sweat dripped from his face, and he was bundled In every blanket they could manage to scavenge together. His breathing was ragged and heavy, his lungs laboring to supply oxygen to his body. The wound in his arm was still bleeding, it slowed but the flow of blood hadn't stopped.

"Something's stopping the blood from clotting. The white bloods cells aren't able to do their job, meaning that wound won't heal." Marcus sighed, leaning against the wall. Just a few days earlier, that had been him laying in that bed, his wounds healing. They'd finished burying Amy earlier that morning, Dale and Andrea were still there. He'd hung back for a bit afterwards, and had gone back to camp alone.

"Marcus, do you have any ideas on what to do? You patched him up, and you appear to have more knowledge in medicine then any of us do." Rick was looking at him, his face anxious. Shane glared over his shoulder, eye's locked on Marcus.

"Rick, doesn't that seem strange to you? This kid shows up, joins the group, tells us we need to move camp, and suddenly walkers attack." Shane pointed at Marcus, his right hand hovering beside his holstered gun. "I say this kid is nothing but trouble and bad luck." Rick turned to Shane staring him down.

"Shane, what is your problem? Marcus has done nothing but help us, he's helped us get more food for the group then you or I did. His knowledge out there has helped us prepare for moving camp." Shane's face turned red, the vein in his neck visible.

"We're not moving the camp! Rescue will come! We can't afford to be out somewhere in the middle of nowhere when the government comes cleaning this mess up!" Marcus stiffened, his hand on his sword, thumb pushing the hilt up so it was partly drawn. He fully drew it as Shane moved forward. Lori and Carol stepped in front of the kids, Rick stood in front blocking Marcus's path.

"Shane, calm down. We are not discussing this now." He reached a hand out to Shane, grasping Shane's shoulder. "Shane, listen to yourself. What you're saying, it doesn't make sense." Shane slapped his hand away, storming out of the R.V. Marcus noticed him stop in front of Lori, his eyes pleading with her. He stepped forward, twirling his blade and sliding it into it's sheath.

"Shane, do you understand what's happened?" Shane spun on his heel, snarling at Marcus, but he was undeterred. "Shane, the world we live in, it isn't the one you think it is. We aren't civilized, we aren't making allies. We're surviving, and so are the others. That means that those that are left aren't taking chances. They've become cold, unrelenting, and they've thrown aside any hopes of rescue. They're surviving, and it's what we need to do." Shane shifted, stepping back as Marcus walked up to him, staring him down face to face. Everyone cold see it, the warmth and kindness he they'd all liked was gone, replaced by hard blocks of ice cold determination. No fire of passion was there, only an unrelenting chill of calm collection, no hesitation or bluffs.

Shane stepped back, his eyes fearful, his hand hovering over the grip of his pistol. Marcus's eyes never moved from Shane's, but his hand was on the hilt of his sword. "Draw your gun Shane. I can see your fear, your hesitation. There's no room for that anymore. This world no longer rewards mercy or generosity. It punishes those actions, and rewards the unrelenting, and the merciless." Marcus turned his back to Shane. "Rick, I've seen it in your eyes. You know this, and you're prepared to do what ever it takes not just for your family, but for the group. We are family now, and we need to take care of each other. But we can't reach out blindly." He looked back at Shane. "And we can't hold out for a rescue that isn't coming. That kind of naive thinking is what'll kill us all. And it's what killed Amy, and doomed Jim." Shane staggered back as if Marcus had hit him.

"Marcus..." Rick was stammering, grasping in his mind for what to say. Marcus stepped towards him.

"In the ancient ages, warriors would swear undying loyalty to their kings and leaders." Marcus knelt down on one knee, bowing his head. "You saved my life, rescued me. That life is rightfully yours, Rick Grimes." Marcus stood again, clasping Rick on the shoulder, smiling. The warmth was there in his eye's again. Lori placed a hand on Ricks other shoulder, and suddenly everyone was doing the same, declaring Rick leader. All but Shane.

It wasn't but three day's later that Shane died, shot in the forest after he attempted to kill Rick. They buried him beside Amy, and Marcus was the only witness when, as they all left Lori spat on his grave. Marcus turned away into the falling rain, the cold wind biting at his exposed face and cheeks. He wasn't bothered by Shane's death, if anything he was glad for it.

He stopped before Amy's grave, kneeling down and placing his palm on the cold earth. Why, he wondered, did you and Jim have to die when that bastard should've. Marcus straightened back up, taking a deep breath and turning his back to the grave.

"This world holds no room for that kind of thinking anymore. It's survival of the cruelest." But did he really believe that? Or was he saying it to avoid the guilt for his crimes? He pushed the thoughts away, walking the path back to camp alone.


	8. Vote

Hey everybody, i wanted to get your opinion. I'm thinking on switching up the story from a third person narrative to a first person. Seems to me like it would flow better like that. Please comment or PM me on what you think. Thanks.


End file.
